


Heartbeat

by crorvid



Series: Aziraphale/Crowley + Kiss Tropes [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Other, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-11 00:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crorvid/pseuds/crorvid
Summary: Aziraphale knew how angels were supposed to act, and most of it involved not doing the things he wanted very much to do. And so he didn’t.staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in





	Heartbeat

Aziraphale didn’t have a heartbeat. He didn’t need one, since his body was more of a convenient formality that allowed him to blend in among humans and eat sushi. The closest thing he had was the eternal thrum at the core of his being that said _ don’t, don’t, don’t. _

It functioned like a heartbeat. It drove him, controlled his every action, and it got much faster and louder and harder to ignore when Crowley was around. When Crowley did him favors, and grinned that smug demonic grin, and when he pushed him against the wall and hissed in his ear and Aziraphale offered a prayer of thanks that Crowley couldn’t hear the thundering _ don’t, don’t, _ ** _don’t_ ** that was the only thing holding him back after his brain stopped working entirely.

Aziraphale knew how angels were supposed to act, and most of it involved not doing the things he wanted very much to do. And so he didn’t. 

In the silence of the bookshop, the early morning light streaming through the window, Aziraphale came down the stairs holding a mug of tea, which he almost dropped as he was suddenly reminded that Crowley had decided to sleep on his couch last night after several bottles of wine.

It was a good thing he caught himself, he thought, as the noise would certainly have awoken Crowley. And if Crowley were awake, Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to do what he was doing right now, which was slowly walking towards him as if in a daze and really _ looking _ at him in a way that he usually couldn’t.

He was sprawled out on the couch, all gangly limbs and flaming red hair, his sunglasses tossed carelessly on the table beside him. As Aziraphale got closer, he noticed the way his chest rose and fell, as if it needed to, and how peaceful he looked, and he could feel the cadence increasing inside of him. 

_ Don't, don't, don't. _

He got closer and set his tea beside Crowley’s glasses, hesitantly kneeling beside the couch and staring at him, openly, hungrily, shamelessly, in a way that he could only stare when Crowley’s eyes were closed and he couldn’t see that burning yellow. When he knew that Crowley couldn’t stare back.

As the thought crossed his mind, Crowley’s eyes opened. He blinked, once, twice, looking up at Aziraphale’s flushing face as he shook off the fog of sleep and took stock of his surroundings. He didn’t flinch under Aziraphale’s scrutiny, nor did he seem perturbed by it.

Aziraphale couldn’t meet his eyes, wandering his gaze over Crowley’s face before settling on his lips, the breath he didn’t need catching in his throat.

_ Don’t, don’t, don’t. _

“Angel,” Crowley whispered, and it was something about the way he said it, like it meant _ do, _ like it meant _ please _ , like it meant _ you can, you should, I want you to, don’t listen to that voice, listen to me, listen to what I’m telling you, what I have been telling you _.

If saints are known for their patience, imagine the patience that angels must have.

But six thousand years is a long time, and even angelic patience wears thin.

Aziraphale moved his hand up to Crowley’s face and the demon’s eyes fluttered closed again as a cool hand pressed against his cheek. He brought his hand up in turn to wrap around Aziraphale’s wrist, squeezing slightly. An invitation. A plea.

The angel leaned in as the chanting in his chest grew louder. _ Don’t, don’t, don’t, DON’T– _

He kissed him, and the voice was silent. 

He kissed him again, and in its place was a heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> All the works in this series were inspired by [this post](https://andrastesass.tumblr.com/post/120322542322/fictional-kiss-things-that-end-me)!


End file.
